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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087744">Honesty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/Fedora%20Of%20Adorableness'>Fedora Of Adorableness (TheTimelessChild0)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>White Collar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e05 Honor Among Thieves, Hurt Neal Caffrey, Neal Caffrey Needs a Hug, Neal is more than just a criminal, Protective Peter Burke, Sad Neal Caffrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:07:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/Fedora%20Of%20Adorableness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is tempted to commit a crime. So he does the logical thing. Tells Peter right away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Honesty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Diana was talking to Christie. It didn’t seem like a happy conversation. Not in the slightest. He felt awful for her having to do all of that just to solve a case. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s not nervous this time,” Neal observes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not our place to pry,” his handler shut down his curiosity right away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caffrey felt his chest constricting at the memory of Abigail; and her offer. The knowledge that anything Diana did to catch her in the act was futile, as she wasn’t planning on going that route anymore- not when she had him within reach as a reluctant co-conspirator. No. He couldn’t do that to her. To any of them. He had overcome the challenge of Kramer; the bridges burned with the FBI brass when he ran. He wouldn’t relapse. Not so soon. Not again. Not ever, if he could help it. If Peter could help him with that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Peter?” he found himself speaking up suddenly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Burke gave him his full attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal had to take a few breaths to gather up the courage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could we talk in private for a moment?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter frowned. He was pleased that his CI was coming to him with a problem, presumably of an </span>
  <em>
    <span>emotional</span>
  </em>
  <span> nature, but wondered what was making him so nervous about presenting it to him. After all, they were both at the funeral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed the door. “Just us,” he assured, sitting down, patiently awaiting an explanation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal joined him, arms folded on the table. It was a serious conversation about to be had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went by the Marshals office,” The words slipped out like saltwater.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t I get a call?” Peter found himself asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I didn’t go inside, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not allowed to enter,” Neal stated. “I just...needed to think. Of another way,” he confessed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To get the evidence,” Burke understood. Instead of judging, or chastising; scolding, or lecturing the con man...the agent reached out and held his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By yourself, or was Mozzie there?” he inquired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mozzie...and later, Abigail,” Neal shared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Abigail? What was she doing there?” Peter asked, thoroughly invested in the story laid forth in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She wants a Pascal mobile. It’s one of the exhibits at the museum. She offered to get me the evidence if I stole it for her,” he looked down guiltily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Suit was familiar with the concealed look on his partner. It was the same one he had when he heard about Keller kidnapping Elizabeth. One thing became clear while they worked to fix things back then; that it wasn’t Neal’s fault. Once again, Caffrey was blaming himself unnecessarily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tempted?” Peter hinted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would I be talking to you right now?” Neal rebuffed the insinuation, too busy berating himself to think logically about his own mindset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, you would,” the agent answered. “I know how hard this is for you. You’re used to being able to climb every mountain, defeat any obstacle that comes your way. It’s hard enough being out of control, but you just lost the closest thing you had to a parent. I’m lucky to have both of mine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>biological</span>
  </em>
  <span> as well; right next to me,” Peter revealed the full range of his sympathy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just feel helpless,” he confessed. “Like I can’t do anything to help my father, or Ellen. If he was framed, it’s my duty as the one who is free, to investigate. And if he wasn’t, Ellen would’ve wanted me to find out. She’s not able to shield it from me anymore, anyway,” Caffrey cracked a bitter smile, faking a dry laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Try as he might, the thirty-year-old could not stop his tears from breaching the ducts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What Abigail is doing is duplicitous, cruel even. She’s exploiting your vulnerability, diminished capacity. Neal, the sole fact that you’re sitting here, revealing this to me is a huge step. It proves you were never going to go through with it. It’s not illegal to consider. I wouldn’t dare stop you. Whatever it takes to make you feel safe here again, after everything,” Peter soothed the man’s innermost anxieties.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get Abigail </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>the evidence. Okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of the usual slug on the shoulder, he reached out and grabbed it, holding it steady, comforting the con man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal nodded, swallowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get up,” Burke commanded, walking to the other side of the table. He held his friend in the tightest hug he could muster, for as long as he could support the sad excuse for a “criminal”...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so proud of you, Neal,” he whispered. The man’s heart loosened its strings and melted into caramel.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agent Burke fitted Caffrey with a wire, after setting up an appointment with Abigail at his penthouse apartment. Whatever she would do upon fearing the loss of such a perfect Plan B, he wanted to hear it on tape, to be admissible in court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t do it,” he told her, with as firm of a voice as he could muster under the circumstances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well, that’s a shame. Because I already took the liberty to complete my end of the bargain. Awful waste of time on my part, don’t you think?” Abigail pointed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not my problem,” he shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, actually it might be. See, as far as the Marshals are concerned, there was no break-in at their offices. But, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>were to give them a reason to dig deeper...” she implied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blackmail? Seriously? You and I both know I didn’t step foot inside that building,” Neal reminded her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. But you might ask your hair if it stayed put with you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembered. She stroked the back of his hair and tugged. He’d thought she was just playing with it; but no, she’d removed samples.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice try. But you just proved you have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t seem frightened,” Abigail noticed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No? Let me enlighten you. See this anklet? It’s accurate to the yard. The Marshals will find my hairs in a completely different location to the rest of me. And given that I have not mentioned to Peter any plan to shave parts of my head, what do you think he’ll assume? That I hacked the anklet and still left traces behind? You don’t give me enough credit. The FBI does. They’ll give me the benefit of the doubt, I have never been more sure of that fact,” Neal revealed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you think yourself so clever, why not go through with this? If not to save your friend some deep concern, if only for a flashing moment, take it as a challenge, to prove your worth to me,” she invited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” the con man relented, holding back tears. She had stooped low. Beneath common curtesy, in every way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Door </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the code. Peter threw his gun on the table, and ran up to June’s door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ms Ellington was surprised to find the man’s handler there at that late hour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry June, no time to explain, Neal needs me!” he summarised in a rush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal was sipping a glass of wine standing up when Peter barged in. He tore his arms around the young man, stroking his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They said nothing. There was nothing to be said.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the gag to work, there needed to be one main element; surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As planned by Abigail, Neal had recruited Mozzie as the “distraction” while he steals the art piece. A set team of FBI agents pursue, all of them carrying prop guns. One thing not revealed to the sensei, was that the guns were still loaded- with nerf pellets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several of the guns were emptied as the little guy tried to hide behind a not nearly tall enough installation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since Abigail couldn’t watch Neal’s movements, all he had to do was put the piece carefully into a bag, and take it into the FBI van. They’d set up the cameras so they were switched off seemingly spontaneously with the “heist”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then came the tricky part—the extraction phrase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what; this has made me really tired, you guys. I think I’m gonna lay down right here and take a nap; anyone know a good </span>
  <em>
    <span>lullaby</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he asked. The final word was it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caffrey ran around the corner, dodging CCTV just in case, popping into the subway- always a good blindspot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you got my partner to go behind my back and steal the mobile. That mobile is now missing. So just cut the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bollocks</span>
  </em>
  <span> already,” Burke barked at Abigail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You first. We both know he’s standing right there behind the glass. If you want to find the Pascal, you’ll have to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> where he stashed it this morning,” she shot back, unfazed by the interrogation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to. If I knew where he was,” Peter informed her. He opened the door and revealed agent Berrigan and agent Jones alone. No Caffrey, as previously agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His anklet gave out somewhere on East 39th street,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was the address of the U.S. Marshals office. Hearing that Neal had gone back there, would no doubt imply in her mind, that he was looking for the traces of hair she’d left behind the night before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t say,” she pretended to consider the geography.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you want to see him face the music for once in his life. Help us, and we can help you,” Burke offered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hard pass,” Abigail sashayed out of the room, boldly assuming she was allowed to. Which, of course, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Both legally and according to their plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal left Wednesday a few hours later, to pass on the mobile to his pretend “mistress”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just left the Bureau, where I got grilled by your friend for a few hours. How disappointing,” Abigail commented. “I thought you said you were good at this,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caffrey clenched his fists. It was not proper to hit a woman, under any circumstances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Skip the unpleasantries, if you please...I got what you’re after,” he sighed, throwing the duffel bag her way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’ve got what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>after,” she moved to hand him the flash drive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m good,” Neal waved it off quickly. “Really, thanks but no thanks,” he emphasised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really are a curious one, aren’t you? A walking and talking contradiction. You say you don’t want to hurt your friends, but here you are, outside your radius, off-anklet holding a piece of stolen art,” Kincaid commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was it. The take-down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not holding any stolen art. You are. And we’re back inside my stomping grounds, as a matter of fact. I just hate the sound it makes when I’m not,” Neal clarified, lifting his pant leg, revealing the anklet was back on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And my friends are inside that van over there, waiting for me to give them the signal to arrest you. Want to help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For fucks sake...” she griped, moving to bolt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off yourself,” Caffrey held up two fingers, switching to the middle when pointing at the van.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Had to get it both ways, didn’t he?” Peter scoffed, relaying the message to the infantry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guns containing real bullets circled Abigail, who dropped the goods on the ground like Neal had, before. She was unceremoniously stripped of the flash drive as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal walked into Peter’s office, feeling much better. Both because he’d just used the restroom in the lobby, on his way up to the 21st floor; and because the weight of playing doubles in a game of morality, had disappeared at last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a seat in front of the desk, puzzled when a drawer was opened, and the man held up a flash drive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is for you,” the agent stated simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want it,” Neal politely rejected the offer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need it, Peter. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, I’m sure it took a lot of pull to get that for me, and I appreciate it, really I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s just...I guess what you said in the conference room the other day really stuck with me,” he fought to defend himself, suddenly feeling exposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were right. You should’ve waited for me to heal before telling me about the Marshals. Everything that has happened has only proven how fragile I am at the moment,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Burke listened, impressed at the sincerity, especially after things were feasibly supposed to return to some realm of normalcy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What I mean is, I can’t trust my own actions around Sam, but I do trust you. Always. I know I’ve earned it, and I’m not giving up, just asking for you, as my friend to take the responsibility until I’m ready. I think I need some more time to process Ellen’s death. Like I’ve already told you, she was like a mother to me. My real mother is nowhere nearby; nor the least bit </span>
  <em>
    <span>available</span>
  </em>
  <span>; to replace the loss I just suffered. Keep it. We’ll figure out a way to work together without me necessarily having access to anything serious. That’s what we learned with Fowler, after all. You let me and Mozzie work out all kinds of things on our own and then you went ahead and pushed me over the edge. Not your fault, but still...worth keeping in mind,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. If you’re sure?” Peter wanted to give him one last chance to see his own sense of responsibility that evidently existed deep within.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Positive. I need to deal with Ellen’s death before I start doing her bidding, or do something stupid. Again.” Caffrey was begging now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Suit slid the drive back into his pocket for more convenient safekeeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Call me anytime. Even tomorrow. We’ll talk more about it then,” the man decided to give the kid another hug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was really mature of you. You’ll get there. Take all the time in the world. Hughes won’t say anything,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever keeps me in Manhattan,” Neal acknowledged in jest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And inside your two-mile radius,” his handler supplied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> house,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have your own, very nice house. Don’t forget,” Peter pointed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t. Not with Mozzie around to remind me,” Caffrey commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better hurry, or he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> manage to drink all your wine before you get back,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The run secured the idea of Neal moving on, properly this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One thing was for sure, he would keep Mozzie in the loop by letting him be there; in his house, when they checked it. If only to have an extra pair of hands to slap Neal’s off the keyboard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The End.</span>
</p>
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